No Matter
by Stewthewriter1
Summary: A prawn is taken in by a kindly human then rejected, with traumatic consequences


No Matter

The non-human known that came to be known as Kirk had been born on the mother ship some weeks after it had entered the atmosphere of Earth and shut down.

After his hatching his mother had died of malnutrition and soon after the humans broke into the vessel and brought him down to their planet. The youngling was a vivid cobalt blue colour, taking after his father and also had patches of grey and white on his torso and double jointed legs.

For all of the non-human population it was bewildering to be on Earth, after all that time cooped up in the ship, but for a youngling, an orphaned youngling, it was even more terrifying.

Kirk had been orphaned because his father had died before the vessel had even left the home world, according to the being appointed to be his guardian. But then that individual soon disappeared and Kirk was once again left on his own.

None of his own kind seemed to give a damn about the brightly coloured youngster who wandered the refugee camp, begging or rummaging through scraps of things to eat. But in time the humanitarian organisations who ran the refugee camp took pity on him and in one act of diabolical kindness (and stupidity) an aid worker took him in to live with her.

Her name was Anne Cunningham, a kindly lady who worked for something she explained as the 'Red Cross', which looked after 'poorly and needy people' before quickly adding 'and non-humans too'

'Non-humans' he asked 'is this what we would be called from now on?'

'Yes that is correct Kirk'

Anne lived only a few miles from the refugee camp which would later become District 9 and so Kirk could gaze out of her balcony at the vast space ship which had brought his kind to Earth.

Like any inquisitive child he asked lots of questions, many of which poor Anne Cunningham had no answers for. He spent hours watching the white flying machines known as 'helicopters' flying to and from the ship. He witnessed the first signs of scaffolding being erected around the vessel to enable humans to study the machine more closely.

He heard more than saw the beginnings of discontent in the refugee camp, with riots and gunfire echoing through the nights.

For her part Anne had noticed that this little chap had more than an inquisitive nature, he seemed to be gifted with intelligence (or cursed depending on your viewpoint)

He seemed fascinated with household objects, endlessly taking them apart, studying their component parts and then reconstructing back together. He interacted well with her cats and dogs by not trying to tear them apart and eat them. He was polite, sitting and eating meals with her every evening before she taught him some basic language and numeracy skills.

She had him reading independently after a few months and they often sat and watched the television together.

Before the aliens came here, Anne had been a teacher in Cape Town for many years. She had felt lost and aimless in her life after her husband had passed away and The Arrival in 1982 had given her some hope of salvation.

But things were beginning to unravel for the newcomers as the TV carried daily reports of growing alien misdemeanours. High crime rates, including murders, and general upheaval in the camp. Some humanitarian organisations had already begun to withdraw from the site and a new 'conglomerate' corporation had been appointed to oversee the running of the camp.

Then the prejudice against her began, with people staring and whispering when she took Kirk out to the store. Friends began to ostracise here as opinions turned against the aliens. When graffiti appeared all over her door one day saying: GET OUT PRAWN LOVER and dog mess was posted through her door; she knew she had to make a big decision.

As much as she had begun to love Kirk like she would her own son, things had become more dangerous for them both. He had been attacked while out playing and the human children had been told to stay away from him. The truth was he didn't belong here and he knew that. But he hadn't felt at home in the refugee camp either.

Kirk simply felt lost.

The day she sat him down had been heartbreaking for her. Kirk had lived with her for almost a year and felt part of the family.

But he had to go back to the camp and join the other non-humans, as at least he would be safe there. The worst part is those amber coloured eyes of his _knew _what she was going to say before she had even opened her mouth.

For many days after Kirk was quiet, possibly even sad, Anne thought. He told he felt at home here and that the newly christened District 9 offered him nothing now.

His family were all dead and there was nobody to care for him. In a great irony Kirk said he felt more alienated within the camp, amongst his own species, than he did here with the humans.

When the day came for Anne to take Kirk back to District 9 it felt like taking her child to school on the first day and leaving him at the gates. She promised herself not to look back, to see those amber eyes glancing sadly after her. But she did look over her shoulder as the gate slid closed and saw him standing there, looking like a lost little boy with all of his earthly possessions packed into one bag, his model aeroplane kits, his telescope....

For days after Anne wept for him, wept for their time together.

'I will visit as often as I am permitted too' she had said by way of pathetic consolation to him. In the current climate she didn't know how often that would actually happen. Perhaps they would forbid humans from ever setting foot in District 9 ever again and leave the non-humans to it.

And so it was that Kirk would grow up in District 9 having known what the outside world was like.

He yearned to go back there.

*

But Anne Cunningham had never visited her 'darling boy' Kirk ever again, and he hated her for it. He felt abandoned, lost and lonely in the hell hole District 9 had become. Cursed (or gifted) with intelligence, he had eked out a living in District 9 foraging for trinkets to make and sell to other prawns and the MNU guards who watched over the slum.

Truth be known Kirk despised his own species, all the scrabbling around on all fours, hunting through rubbish for food, launching pointless attacks on humans...didn't they know better?

With their pointless existences had could they hope of ever achieving anything, of getting humans to respect them?

Kirk had seen other ways of living and he always had a place in his heart for kindly old Anne Cunningham. She had shown him that not all humans were cruel and heartless and that they could be capable of great acts of kindness.

Human as they were though, Kirk still hated MNU and what they did to the non-human population. But on many a night he had lain in his shack, crying for Anne and his lost life, cursing aloud his own kind for bringing him here and the humans for turning against them all. He still felt like a child, with nobody to care for him.

Sitting outside his shack one day, as he always did, and greeting the sun rise, Kirk had chanced upon a non-human clad in red and leading a youngling around the trash heaps.

'Won't find much in there my friend' he had said by way of greeting.

The other alien spun round, half-startled and half-surprised that another non-human would greet him so politely.

'Is this your area of operations...I am sorry to...'

'Not at all, it is all of ours for the taking!'

The other alien, Christopher and his son had then struck up a friendship of sorts with Kirk. They both discovered that they were classed as Elites in their culture, having intelligence and leadership qualities.

'So it is we are unique amongst out peers, pacifists and sentient' Christopher had said.

'If only the humans understood this more' Kirk had agreed.

The two of them became a regular sight around the district, with their child close behind, foraging, digging, exploring...

'So you are an orphan?' Christopher had asked one day, much to the surprise of Kirk.

'Yes and I am Earth-born too'

Kirk closed his eyes in revulsion at that phrase.

_Earth-born, an Earthling...._

'My father died before the ship left our planet and my mother died on the vessel after having me' he went on.

At that point Kirk didn't know how much he really knew Christopher or if he could trust him.

'After a short while down here, a kindly human lady took me in with her, to live'

Christopher stopped foraging and stared at Kirk, surprise written on his face.

'A human took you in to live with her, in her own dwelling?'

'Yes' Kirk sighed 'I lived with her for one cycle and then things changed'

His 'mouth' tentacles squirmed around, a sign of agitation in his species.

'You mean the humans turned against us?' Christopher reflected.

Kirk nodded.

'The hardest thing for me is that I know there is something else out there, something better for us but because of what we are...'

Christopher felt the younger alien's pain. Because the humans found the prawns revolting they wanted nothing more to do with them.

'No matter Kirk you are amongst friends now, not all of us are mindless savages and we have to stick together as things get bad'

But Kirk was still lost in the past, thinking about Anne. Why hadn't she come back to see him? Was she still alive now or dead?

That thought hurt him way too much. The only human being ever to have showed him any kindness and he had lost her, lost his real family...

No matter what he did, nothing could erase those facts from the equation.

In time Christopher Johnson trusted the now adolescent Kirk to the extent of letting him share in his scheme to return home.

One night Kirk had travelled to the shack occupied by Johnson after an invitation that day. What he was shown simply astonished him and made him feel the most elated he had been in a long time. The command module which had detached itself from the mother ship now lay buried _underneath_ the shack, having been there undetected by MNU for two decades!

Furthermore Johnson and a friend had been secretly scouring the rubbish heaps all over the district for the fuel which would power the module up to the mother ship and restart the giant vessel.

But Christopher also warned Kirk that the natural fuel that could power the module was fast running out and that they needed more terrestrial sources of fuel that could be refined in his laboratory.

He asked if Kirk would join them in the plan and he said he would.

On his first day sourcing fuel, Kirk had managed to track down an old exo-suit from a dead friends abandoned shack. It was a boon and nearly filled the small black and silver canister Johnson had given him.

Johnson had his own half full canister, one of which would most likely start up the module. But he also wanted a spare source of fuel in case anything should happen to him or his fuel.

So at last Kirk had a purpose to all of his days. And after each day foraging he would venture to Johnson's shack, to socialise with others like him and to gaze once again at the command module.

Christopher would run up the systems every evening to keep them 'ticking over', to borrow a human phase.

He told Kirk that they were close now, once they had a full canister of fuel they would be able to power the vessel and leave here.

It almost became a race between the two aliens to obtain the correct amount of fuel. Christopher seemed to think that the future survival of their race depended on it. For the first time in his life, Kirk felt as if he belonged, that he was wanted.

But then disaster struck one night after Kirk had been returning to his shack. An anxious neighbour of his told him that there had been trouble, a wanted non-human fugitive had taken refuge in his shack, hotly pursued by Nigerian gangsters.

The Nigerians had set fire to the shack and killed the fugitive.

'Oh god no' he had said.

Not out of concern for the fallen alien, but for the full canister of fuel which had gone up with the shack.

No matter what he did, Kirk felt he failed or was rejected outright. Unable to face Christopher Johnson he had fled to another part of the district. There, whilst out foraging for a meal he chanced upon a buried arc gun. He took it back to his dwelling, hoping to end his days here for good. If he couldn't go home with Johnson then there wasn't any point in living.

Kirk sat outside his new shack, arc gun in his lap and thinking of Anne...


End file.
